


i didn't realize what time it was

by plentify



Series: 26 short stories for soonhoon [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Band Fic, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, it's really light core i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plentify/pseuds/plentify
Summary: Jihoon's fingers are blistered from hours of practice. Soonyoung is just trying to understand why.(Jazz band!AU)





	i didn't realize what time it was

**Author's Note:**

> B is for Benefactor

       Jihoon’s fingers are always blistered.

       Soonyoung has walked away from practice with chapped, broken lips and small indents in his fingers from where the saxophone keys dig into his skin. But it’s nothing compared to the peeling skin and hazy pink flesh that pluck the bass’s thick strings.

       He has seen Jihoon’s fingers when they have to pass around new sheet music. When Soonyoung hands Jihoon the box of auxiliary percussion to put on the trailer. When Jihoon is forced to ask Jeonghan to wrap band-aids around his fingers because they sting when he does it himself.

       Soonyoung knows Jihoon hates asking for help.

-

       Soonyoung wets his reed while watching Jihoon talk to their conductor.

       He can’t hear them talk, but he can see Jihoon’s eyebrows furrow. The conductor looks almost apologetic. But when Jihoon’s mouth presses into a thin line, Soonyoung instantly knows something is wrong. He adjusts his ligature, whipping his head around the moment Jihoon comes out of the office. He can’t see the bassist, but Soonyoung plays around with Jihoon’s expression in his mind. Maybe he’s sad or pissed off. Maybe his eyebrows are scrunching up, or his cheeks are flushed pink with embarrassment. Most likely, Jihoon’s expression is blank, just like always, and Soonyoung is just thinking about it too much.

       They’re running through their set, a four piece set that Soonyoung has played to death. He finds himself standing thirty-two measures early for a solo, and Seokmin has this odd look on his face. 

       Not at Soonyoung, but at the conductor.

       And suddenly Soonyoung realizes what the conductor was talking to Jihoon about.

       It’s not like he can’t do it; the chord progressions are bright in his mind, and his ideas are overflowing with brilliant runs and sharp rhythms. The band settles into his solo and comes in with their backgrounds.

       But he feels like he’s taking away something from Jihoon. Taking away his solo. Soonyoung has three, and Jihoon now has none. No outlet to express himself. He feels a little greedy, a little guilty.

       He wails on a high note and the conductor shouts in encouragement. It feels good. It feels almost too good. But when Soonyoung sneaks a glance over at Jihoon, Jihoon isn’t looking at him. He’s staring down at his sheet music, the same sheet music Soonyoung has heard him play from memory from time to time again, with that thick, blank expression.

-

       Jihoon practices too hard. Sometimes Soonyoung thinks he doesn’t have anything better to do.

       Admittedly, Soonyoung practices a little too hard as well. Seokmin has had to physically pry away his saxophone after he found Soonyoung curled up in a corner after spending two hours on just chord changes. Soonyoung knows the band secretly practices too much for their own good, to the point where they come into rehearsal exhausted and unmotivated. It’s just the nature of competition.

       But Jihoon.

       Jihoon is always doing something. He’s listening to previous recordings of their performances. He’s transcribing Charles Mingus solos. He’s talking to Junhui about comping.

       It’s not that bad until Jihoon faints two hours before the performance.

       Jeonghan is there, instantly on the ground of the hotel lobby. Soonyoung can only watch as he picks up Jihoon and heads right towards him.

       “I’m going to go get some help, can you keep watch on him please?”

       Jeonghan’s voice is so frantic Soonyoung has no choice but to immediately comply. And soon he’s holding Jihoon’s limp body while watching Jeonghan scamper away.

       Soonyoung looks at Jihoon, stares at the sweat forming around his forehead. He sighs as he places him down on a nearby sofa.

       “Is this all just because of one solo?”

-

       The performance goes well.

       Soonyoung doesn’t exactly care. The conductor is satisfied, and the band has minimal complaints.

       Jihoon does a good job considering his earlier mishap. When Soonyoung confronts him about it, Jihoon brushes it off and tells Soonyoung not to worry too much about it.

       “But you could’ve been really hurt! Why don’t you care about your well-being?”

       “But I wasn’t hurt,” Jihoon states flatly, “And you should be more concerned about yourself. What the hell was that solo?”

       That’s the first time Jihoon has explicitly expressed any sign that Soonyoung taking his solo has affected him. He feels that guilt all over again, but somehow his pride keeps his eyes staring right back at Jihoon’s. There’s a moment of silence before Jihoon ducks his head.

       “I’m sorry, I’m being selfish. Band is more than just solos.”

       Soonyoung licks his lips, but doesn’t respond right away. There’s something underneath Jihoon’s continuous practice that’s hurting. Soonyoung doesn’t know if he’s allowed to pry around to find it.

       “Sometimes I get mad at myself for not doing well. But everyone else is so happy. Why should I generalize our performance based on what I think?”

       Somehow, Soonyoung agrees. He nods, and Jihoon’s lips curl up into a faint smile.

       “You wanna get dinner before the awards?”

       It’s something Soonyoung is more familiar with. Jihoon yelps in surprise when Soonyoung grabs ahold on his arm and leads them to the nearest fast food restaurant.

-

       Jihoon sits with Soonyoung on the bus ride home.

       His relationship with Soonyoung is a little complicated. Kind of like a relationship, but they don’t talk often. Jihoon doesn’t like to interact with other people unless it’s concerned with work, and Soonyoung respects that. He has other people to talk to anyway.

       But just for tonight, he lets Soonyoung lean his head on his shoulder, and they relax after a stressful day. 

       Jihoon realizes he doesn’t know much about Soonyoung, no matter how many times the other treats him to food on their band trips. He’s just Soonyoung. A big bright ball of energy. The guy who plays jazz like he was born to play it. He scrunches his nose at the cheesy wording.

       He closes his eyes with the plan of sleeping for the entire bus ride home until he feels Soonyoung literally nuzzling the curve of his neck. There’s something warm cupping his hands, but it’s not until Soonyoung is trying to pry them apart does Jihoon snap open his eyes again.

       “What are you doing?”

       “Your fingers…”

       Jihoon stares down at his hands. The skin is starting to heal and the cuts are closing. Jihoon thinks he can throw the bandaids away after a few more days if he’s careful not to reopen the cuts from practice. He unconsciously folds his hands to hide his finger pads, but Soonyoung takes one and unfolds his fingers. Jihoon lets him.

       “Does it hurt?”

_It hurts so much._

       “Not anymore, they’re healing.”

       Soonyoung licks his lips, “But you’re just going to go back to practicing until you hurt yourself all over again.”

       Jihoon flinches because Soonyoung isn’t wrong. They have another festival next week, and Jihoon needs to solidify his solos within the next few days if he wants to have another shot at soloing. He wonders if he’s really that easy to read.

       “But I need to practice.”

       Soonyoung pouts, and Jihoon realizes how stupid he sounds, “Your solos lack feeling, not technique. Your theory is much better than mine, but your solos are textbook-style. No one wants to hear that. Judges have already listened to standard blues and dorian scales. You gotta make a Jihoon solo, not a jazz solo.”

       Jihoon wonders if this is the line between his own playing and Soonyoung’s. Soonyoung is enjoyable, friendly, amicable. He made everyone feel good, feel special, feel like they were part of something. Jihoon, Jihoon stayed reticent, hard-working. People admired him for his self-discipline, but Jihoon could barely remember the last time he made someone smile like how Soonyoung did.

       He feels Soonyoung trace over his hand. They’re chubby fingers. His palm is warm, and Jihoon feels comforted when they instinctively intertwine their fingers.

       “Can you promise me that you won’t hurt yourself anymore? Music is supposed to be fun.”

       Jihoon finds Soonyoung staring back up at him. The inside of the bus is dark, but the light from the street lamps outside hug against the curves of Soonyoung’s face. His eyes are glossy, sparkly and Jihoon has a hard time keeping eye contact. For that moment, Soonyoung seems less like the happy-go-lucky lead alto in their jazz band. All the smiling, all the dumb antics seem to fade away as Soonyoung looks at Jihoon with something so raw. Something so painful.

       “Okay. I promise.”

-

       Soonyoung’s lips are always chapped.

       Jihoon can’t see it from where he stands, but he knows Soonyoung’s lips are screaming for mercy when he wraps them around his mouthpiece to lead the sax soli. Seokmin always offers him chapstick after noticing how often he picks at his lips, but Soonyoung always politely declines.

       Jihoon keeps his promise to Soonyoung and lets his fingers rest. Junhui notices one day when the band breaks up into sectionals.

       “It’s so weird seeing you with your fingers intact,” the pianist laughs.

       He feels a pang of regret; the cuts defined him, allowed him to have some kind of individualism. But Soonyoung notices one day too, because Jihoon doesn’t need the bandaids anymore, and he gives Jihoon the brightest smile he has ever seen. Jihoon thinks that makes it a little worth it.

       Soonyoung’s lips start bleeding one day during rehearsal. He quietly moves himself to the box of tissues sitting in the office, ignoring concerned looks and offers for chapstick or water. Soonyoung just silently pats his lips until the blood paints the tissue, throws it away and apologizes to the conductor for interrupting rehearsal.

       Jihoon doesn’t understand why Soonyoung doesn’t accept any help.

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a little weird. I changed the prompt three times and it still didn't come out that great. The next one will be more intense and more relationship-centered.


End file.
